


Forbidden Kiss

by theharellan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Forbidden Love, Orzammar Culture and Customs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:22:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theharellan/pseuds/theharellan
Summary: Gorim and Tamar Aeducan don't have the luxury of being open with their affections.
Relationships: Aeducan/Gorim Saelac, Female Aeducan/Gorim Saelac, Gorim Saelac/Warden
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Forbidden Kiss

Tamar reaches over her head, fingers pinching a solid gold pin and pulling. Hair spills from her bun and sweeps her shoulders, braids unwinding around each other. “I’m still not sure how you manage it,” she muses, turning the gold pin in her hand. “It looks too complicated to come apart so easily.”

“Practise, my lady.”

“You’ll have to teach me,” she says. It’s a request she’s made before, and never one with any follow-up. Maybe one day he will, but until that day they both know why he doesn’t. Those extra ten minutes alone at the start of the day are worth the whole world to him. Handmaidens lift her from her armour, and he watches impassively as he’s able to muster, eyes searching for the flash of a dagger or bottled poison, any signal that something is amiss. It’s happened before, too many cowards afraid to face the princess armed, always forgetting the second sword never far from her side.

Tonight, however, they dutifully undress her without incident. In place of armour she dons a robe, shiny with Surface silk. Her shoulders heave with a sigh, turning to face her vanity set, her reflection tired in ways her public face never is. “Leave us,” she asks, “my Second and I need a word.”

“Of course, my Lady Aeducan,” one says as they bow in perfect synchronisation. Gorim can’t help but notice how she glances over her shoulder upon their depature, almost like she expects them to break the script here. The door to Tamar’s chambers swing open and closed, stone doors thunking shut behind the handmaidens. Neither of them are new enough at this to think that guarantees privacy. They stand apart for a moment, waiting until the lingering feet outside move away.

“We’re alone,” he says when he’s sure it’s safe, or what passes for it. “I shouldn’t stay long. I have a feeling one of them’s gone off to tell your brother.”

“Then we shall have to make five minutes count,” she answers, undeterred. Tamar touches a handkerchief to her lips, rubbing the ruby off onto the cloth so her makeup leaves no mark on him. “I’d prefer to make an evening of it, but…”

“As would I.” Gorim finds his feet, crossing the room to take his place beside her. Still dressed in armour too unwieldy to take off, he settles his hand across her waist, hers folding over his. “You made Orzammar proud today, my lady.” Her reflection breaks into a smile, her nose crinkling as it spreads across her face. She turns so he can see it, eye-to-eye, her tongue poking between her teeth. He can see the thoughts in her expression, the desire to express the thousand things she’d noticed today, all the things they couldn’t share out loud, even if he’d been by her since the first hour.

She sacrifices her chance to say them for a chance to kiss him, instead. One hand cups his cheek, tilting his head towards her lips.

Her kisses are the sort that should be committed to the Memories, before the wars and kings, and everything else worthy of remembering. He’s not sure he’d have the words if he tried. She’s soft, and warm, and before she slips his tongue past his teeth she laughs like she’s telling a joke. And maybe she is, but the joke’s always on him. His face lights up like the lava flow every time, trying not to count the seconds before this has to end.

It always ends, though, and in the dim light of the evening, with nothing but orange braziers to light his way, Trian can’t see the way he glows on his walk back to his room.


End file.
